If you recall, last year, I unexpectedly found a little
field mouse in my closet. I feel bad for the little mice because I get it. It’s
cold outside. (We got our first frost last night). And my house is
significantly warmer (although still a little chilly to save on utilities).
BUT, I don’t want you running around my house. And you will die if you do.
Yesterday, I get home and my roommate warns me that there is
a furry little friend in the laundry room. I think, oh great! More blood and guts and
gore that I have to deal with (albeit in a little tiny creature). And she then explains that the mouse
is dead on a glue trap. (...at least no blood, guts or gore)
I then think, what’s the big deal then? If it’s dead, why is
it still in the laundry room? Apparently both of my roommates were not going to throw
away the dead mouse anytime soon.
I asked, “are you going to get rid of it?” She responds, “Yeah,
but not right now because I’m going out.” How long had the mouse been there? When had she discovered it? When
was she planning to dispose of it? Not that I’m saying it was her job, but
she’s the one who saw the creature to begin with since I haven’t walked into
the laundry room for 6 days. In my mind it just makes sense to dispose of it
ASAP. I think taking care of dead animals should be a priority over some random guy's birthday party. [I can analyze that later]
Now I understand being scared. Because honestly, the first
mouse I found in my closet, I screamed. Like a little girl. SCREAMED! And it completely
freaked me out. But once I got over the initial shock of having a mouse running
around, I was able to compose myself enough to trash the mouse along with two other mice (one super gory and one just died in my bedroom over the semester break). You
know, with rubber gloves and plastic bags and such. To me, it seems way grosser
to have a dead mouse stuck to a glue trap in my laundry room than to just throw
the mouse out right away. Especially since today is garbage day.
So making a short story longer, I picked up the glue trap, threw
the mouse into a plastic bag, put it in the garbage bag, and then took it to
the curb. Crisis averted. We all survived. The mouse is disposed of. And I'm the heroine.
2 comments:
OH good memories. I remember hearing you scream. :) P.S. I saw Amber at Smith's the other day. Miss you guys.
I only worry about the rats. People in the Marshall Islands were so unfazed by the mice that I picked up on their nonchalant attitude. On the other hand, who leaves a dead mouse in the laundry room? Not Melanie! Good for you.
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